Here’s a drawing I made while Vernon was in a coma. It’s was my best picture for what things felt like at the time. Going underwater with him, hoping to pull him back up.
Here’s a drawing I made last night at the table while Maki made his own drawing. It’s a bit of how I feel now. The Splashdown of a Shuttle.
And here is a poem I’ve been putting together, hoping to make some word sense of what’s happening as we come back to ordinary life. “Decompression Sickness” isn’t a very good title. Perhaps I’ll call it “The Return”
Don’t know if I’m coming up too fast from depths too low—
I’ve heard free diving pearl hunters
can hold their breath under water for twenty minutes, sometimes.
They squeeze default oxygen from the pancreas and other hidden corners of their bodies.
I guess it’s worth it for the treasure.
The body is a survivor’s final frontier.
Sometimes, deep divers get the bends:
In the surge back up to the surface,
their blood can’t handle the altitude change,
the rapidly decreasing pressure they’d been under so long.
Nitrogen bubbles are trapped in the blood stream,
causing pain in the muscles and joints, numbness, paralysis.
Don’t know if I’m dropping down to fast from heights too high—
I think of astronauts in their protective space-suits,
floating around in a controlled capsule;
oxygen tanks, freeze-dried food packets, Tang!
What’s in it for them?
To witness a final frontier.
Sometimes spacemen get the bends:
In the fall back down to the surface,
their blood can’t handle the altitude change,
the rapidly increasing pressure after drifting in orbit.
Nitrogen bubbles are trapped in the brain,
causing confusion, amnesia, strange mood and behavioral shifts.
Don’t know if I’m coming or if I’m going—
Did I crash down on the ocean or come up from underneath?
Either way, there is a lot of splashing…and gasping.
I do know this:
I’m here.
I’m breathing.
I’m alive, I survived.
But I’ve got the bends.
52
Yes, dear one, I would imagine you have the bends. Your body and soul have been through a lot and they will need time to heal. So remember to give yourself time to adjust to your “new normal” life. Be gentle with yourself – you have been through a horrific time and it has made you stronger and you will come out triumphant. Just take your time – and breathe – remember to breathe. Probably like you had to do in the first days after the accident. Continue to let your friends help you through this period too. Feel their love and hold onto their strength. The Lord hasn’t left you yet and He won’t now. Feel our love and prayers – and keep breathing.
I learn so much from word pictures and beautiful poetry, like your’s. I’m thinking I better understand where you are now. And blessed to know that the bends do subside. Not immediately, but eventually. Thanks for sharing.
All i need is an iron lung! Thanks, Norm. xo
So very nice
Beautifully written, and such an insight into your emotionsto those of us on the outside looking in. Thank you for sharing.
The bends! What an appropriate and simple way to describe the adjustment to a “new normal”! Just the natural (tho painful) consequence of a drastic external change which will normally correct itself as one continues to breathe. Seems like this blog may be a vital part of that breathing. As you “inhale” the encouragements of friends and family, please be sure to also keep breathing in the truths of your Father’s Word. Thank you once again, Allison, for sharing your heart, your journey with us.
I’ve kept up with your blog….and your Aunt Sue had a video of the memorial #1….you are still in my prayers, and as I pray for you and the children, I can’t help thanking the Lord Jesus for putting you into our lives, giving you insight that few of us have…..and as I saw the picture of Vernon at your grandfather’s funeral (I was not there, but Ed was!), I was reminded that they are both now celebrating much more than any of us could dream.
You write so well. Hope this ends up in a book. Astronauts coming down had 3 parachutes and that is because of the 3 of you are coming down or coming back to the surface. So glad that you are still writing blogs. Be well at your house. It will take a while to get use to not having Vernon around but he is a better place.
Hugs,
Becky
You are in my heart and mind daily, often. Love you.
Maybe this is why they call it “comfort food” when you’re going thru the bends of life. It’s easy on the stomach, often prepared with love by someone dear as the emotional highs and lows are too much for a body and mind to handle without needed rest and loving care.
I love the way you describe what you’re going Thru in your poem and drawings. I’m learning so much more about the healing power of art.
I’m so sorry for this huge loss, for your having to go Thru the worst bends of life.
And then to find the new normal. Oh! I’m sure it will take lots of time, grace and enduring love.
We’re all called to care for the widows and orphans. You will be cared for.
We are here and we love you. I’m praying for new ways to help you thru this huge transition.
I love this verse-
“May He comfort you as a mother comforts her child.”
Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo,
M
I love this poem. I hope to share it with my friend in a similar situation.